The Ring's Past
by ReadingStar
Summary: -the Goblin said, flipping through the pages. He stopped at a page titles 'The Tale of the Three Brothers'. One of the few owners of the ring.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

Prompt: Marvalo's Ring

Optional Prompts: "Not all that is gold glitters" —J.R.R. Tolkien, Fellowship of the Rings ; Magenta ; First Person

* * *

"Son," my father called, "Come here."

I nodded and walked up to him. "Yes father."

"Your coming of age, last week, means that you now have many more responsibilities than you did before." He paused. "Like working and carrying on the family name and honour."

I nodded, again. Only a few days ago I had been given my own land and house, vault in Gringotts and set of treasures which included many rings including the family ring and other pieces of jewlery with the family emblem on it. But none of my gifts had come as a surprise, after all, it was an old wizarding tradition to hand over some family responsibilities, that came with the name, when the heir turned seventeen.

"You will find," father continued, "that this… object has been in the family for years, centuries, even. It is very precious and valuable, of course, and is said to have been in the possession of Salazar Slytherin himself at some point in history."

My eyes gleamed, I knew that I was a direct discendend of Slytherin but had never owned anything that he had, the object would be different, special. How I longed to hold the object in my hand, feel it's countless powers, which it was bound to have due to it's age, running through my hand. Powers i could only dream of, lost in time… I could become very powerful, invincible even. But, I thought, curling my hand into a fist, I could not seem greedy, father rarely ever trusted me and if this object was so precious, he might choose to give to Henry. For, we both knew that father trusted Henry far more than me, even though I was the older of the two.

"It has powers of course," father said as though reading my mind. "Rare, yet strange powers… I myself have used it once but it didn't feel right, so I never used it again."

"What do you mean father," I asked, momentarily letting my guard down. "What kind of powers?"

He remained silent for a few moments as though thinking of what would be the best way to respond.

"I'll let you find out for yourself, very few would be able to figure it out and most just happen to chance upon it, but I believe that you will be able to figure it out, after all, you are quiet bright."

"I shall try my best, father."

"Good. You will have to take good care of it too. Never let go of it, always keep it safe and on your person, care for it more than you do your life. Also, when it comes to handing it over, if you, for some reason, believe that one of your own sons is not worthy to get a prizes and precious object, give it to your nephews. It doesn't have to be the oldest, just the one most worthy of it. Do you understand?"

"Yes father," I replied, wondering, however, why father had chosen to give the object to me rather than to Henry, what had I done to prove that I was worthier of the two of us? I daren't ask him though, just in case it made father change his mind. I could not, I would not risk it.

Biting his lower lip, father reached into one of the many pockets of his robe and pulled out a small magenta box. I made to reach out for it, but father pulled it away.

"Remember son," he began again. "Not all that glitters is gold and not all that is gold glitters. You will find that this is a bit of both. Men have been known to waste away while using this objects powers. It rarely brings the happiness one expects it will… More often than not, it brings people grief and longing to change the past; which they can't. You may prefer not to use it, though always keep it on your person…"

"But why?" I interrupted, curious.

"You will understand only when you understand its powers." With a sigh, he resignedly held the box out in front of me.

I took it from his hand, immediately closing my fingers around the magenta box, its powers now lay in my hand.

* * *

"Have you found anything?" I asked as the Goblin scurried up to me.

It had been over a year since my father had died and I had inherited his fortune and name. I had then, finally, been free to excavate the rings powers. I'd spent day after night trying to find out what the ring could do and what powers it hid,but to no avail. I was still as clueless as ever. Unless… I looked down at the Goblin.

"We can only guess sir," the Goblin said slowly. "But, we believe that we are onto something."

He unwrapped the cloth, it was magenta, I noticed, the same colour as the box, and revealed a small, worn out, hard bound book. In faded letters at the top, it read: 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard.'

"A children's book," I asked, amused.

"Sir," the Goblin said, flipping through the pages. He stopped at a page titles 'The Tale of the Three Brothers'.

"Often called the Pervell brothers," the Goblin said. "This diagram, is their symbol" he said, pointing at a symbol of a straight, vertical line, a circle on top of it and a triangle enclosing both line and circle. "The wand, the stone and the cloak."

"Many believe that the Pervell brothers were the original owners of the Deathly Hallows. The symbol on your ring resembles this symbol. So, it seems likely that your ring is the resurrection stone."

"What can the stone do," I asked hesitantly, even though it's powers were obvious due to the name.

"It can bring back the dead."

I could hear a faint ringing in my ears. I had wasted all my money to discover what the ring could do, hoping that its powers would bring me immense wealth and power. How wrong I had been…

I tried the ring out a few days later, of course, the Goblin was right.

The irony of it. I had the ring in my hand now, it's powers in my very hand, but I had no use of it. No need of it and I had nothing else with me. I had lost everything, just for power.


End file.
